Tuesday Tune: Never Stop

This week is the 22nd anniversary my husband and I’s relationship. We’ve been married almost 15 years.

Our wedding is a blur. Like many of our “moments in time” over the years have been. Including the birth of our first child. (Sorry sweetie. Mommy was drugged, exhausted and only half-conscious.) But I recall the moment I first saw John with perfect clarity. I run it through my mind frequently, just because.

I met John when I as 15, at a high school that was a lot like nerd FAME meets Woodstock and the East side of the LBC.

It worked. That school may have been the best mixing grounds for love that ever existed. Many of my classmates, like John and I, went on to marry. Lasting friendships abound.

I digress.

In high school I was pretty and mean by day, broken and barely hanging on by night. Just, faking it, and only myself in the safety of my own mind.

The first time I saw John, he walked by me in the hall with his friend. The friend, who our son is now named after, was like a hyper chihuahua. (Sorry, friend, I love you, but this is true.) John walked beside him. Confidently and calmly smiling at his buddy’s antics. Yin and yang.

He never looked at me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. And at the moment we were closest and about to pass each other, I felt my soul reach across the space that divided us, sigh, and say “TRUTH.”

No shit. That’s exactly what happened. And we kept walking in opposite directions, but my soul stayed with him a second before I felt it snap back to me.

So I secretly stalked him. (Before stalking was uncool.) And eventually, because I’m too shy to flirt or be flirted with, I passed him a note that basically read, “Hi, my name is Angie. Do you want to go out?”

And he said, yes. (Because he’s smart and has excellent taste.)

With John, I was ME. No, “this by day, and this by night.” Just the truth. Just like I had heard my soul whisper.

From that point to now we’ve grown from teenagers, to college kids, to married folks, to parents. We’ve lost parents, and we’ve damn near lost our minds a couple of times. Sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes it’s really hard.

I have actually had to talk myself out of smothering him in his sleep.

I’m 100% certain he’s felt the same about me from time to time.

But ultimately, I’m the peaceful non-violent type. And, I love this man. I care about him. I want him to feel love. I want him to know his worth. So during the hard times (and the good, but its’ super useful during the hard times), I replay in my mind that first time I saw him.

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Angie, being Angie. A perfectly imperfect woman, daughter, friend, mother, and wife. I’m a lover and a fighter. I’m up, and I’m down. I succeed. I fuck up. (I cuss). I hope people see things here and in my writing they only think to themselves and are inspired to be unashamed of who they are.
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Let’s live life… out loud.